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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23583556">the list</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachyteabuck/pseuds/peachyteabuck'>peachyteabuck</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dom/sub Play, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:34:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,224</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23583556</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachyteabuck/pseuds/peachyteabuck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>you and steve trade lists of things you like in bed</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Steve Rogers/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the list</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve Rogers ties to approach things logically. When problems arise in missions, during meetings, on the subway, <em>in</em> a Subway, he goes through a series of yes-no questions. If he were a contestant on America’s Next Top Model, Kelly Cotrone would call him “stiff.” (At least, that’s what you told him when you got piss-drunk at a party celebrating you finally getting a promotion to “head curator” at the museum you’d been working at since college. Steve, luckily, is very understanding, even when his Very Drunk Girlfriend lacks what the kids call “tact.”)</p><p>You’re a <em>lot</em> different, more fluid. This makes sense to you, though. You’re not under constant public scrutiny, you’re not the poster child for patriotism. That’s why when it came down for you two to get sexual, you were pleasantly surprised by how open he was. Whenever he hesitated (which was often), it was only because he was planning for anything that could go wrong. Still, at about the six-month mark, you were starting to feel a little…weird.</p><p>“Not because he’s not a <em>fantastic</em> guy,” you told your assistant one day. She’s sweet, good at her job, and (most importantly) agreed to sign an NDA when you hired her. “It’s just that I’m <em>always</em> the one suggesting things, you know…I want <em>him</em> to feel comfortable to suggest things to <em>me</em>.”</p><p>She sighed as you signed another thick packet of sign-offs for the Smithsonian to borrow one of your pieces. “Have you ever tried trading lists?”</p><p>You furrowed your brow. “What the hell does that mean?”</p><p>Your assistant handed another stack of paperwork to scan and then sign, speaking as you do so. “Like, you give him a full list of things you like, love, don’t like. And he does the same. That way lots of things are on the table and you can like, make a Venn Diagram of your sexual interests.”</p><p>You looked up and raised a single eyebrow. “A Venn Diagram?”</p><p>She rolls her eyes and scoffs. “Listen, I’m just trying to put this in a way your smart-brain can understand.”</p><p>You roll your eyes as well and scoff slightly louder, but nonetheless mull it over mentally the rest of the workday.</p><p>You pose the idea to Steve later that day when you get home, finding him in the kitchen cooking something that smells suspiciously to Heaven.</p><p>He’s cutting a red pepper as you speak, expert, clean cuts slowing as he processed what you were saying.</p><p>“So, it’s just a list of uh,” he gulps, avoiding eye contact. “A list of all the things we like in bed?”</p><p>You nod, taking a sip from your wine glass. “Basically, yeah. What we like, dislike, <em>really</em> like. Just so that we can, like, get on the same page in regards to our sex live.”</p><p>Steve shrugs, obviously reluctant and nervous. He’s not a prude once you two are in the bedroom, but any space and he shrivels up like a hand stuck in a bathtub for too long, or a prune. “I mean, sure. But we’ve already had sex before…”</p><p>“Yeah, but there’s no reason we can’t have this conversation,” you push back.</p><p>Still, he doesn’t meet your gaze.</p><p>“It’ll only make things better…” you try.</p><p>It doesn’t work.</p><p>“No matter the outcome I’ll give you one of those shower blowjobs you like so much…”</p><p>Steve freezes at that. It’s only for a moment, but you know right there that you’ve piqued his interest. It’s enough confirmation for you that you feel comfortable dropping the subject until after dinner.</p><p>But, the second the plates are cleared away, the handwashing had been done, and the dishwasher was running, you forced him to sit down, slap a pen and notepad in front of him, and tell him to fill out his list.</p><p>It took awhile, but eventually (after more wine for you and some dessert for him) (the literal kind, chocolate cake with vanilla ice cream) you switch notebooks.</p><p>Steve’s list is long, much longer than you expected. He fidgets in his seat as you read his over, nervous to even peek at yours. You try not to look at him, worried any sort of eye contact would scare him off.</p><p>Still, you don’t dare look at his list yet. <em>You were the one to suggest this, so why are you so nervous about this?</em></p><p>It does take awhile but you eventually read his – devouring every word like a man on death row after being handed his last meal.</p><p>Once Steve looks up, eyes hooded and pants uncomfortably tight, you crawl into his lap, cradling his face in your hands.</p><p>“Do you want me to ride you, baby boy?” you ask lowly, leaving kisses across his jaw. “You want me to ride you until you cum in my pussy?”</p><p>Steve whines high in his throat, mouth agape and eyes hooded with lust. “Fuck yes.”</p><p>You smile and take his hand before leading him into your bedroom, pushing him onto his back in the middle of your California king.</p><p>You both undress hastily, desperate to get him inside of you – so quickly, in fact, that Steve still has half his leg in his pants when you align him with your dripping cunt.</p><p>You press one hand into his chest for balance, the other attempting to find purchase on the headboard.</p><p>“Oh <em>shit,</em>” you moan, “Oh your cock feels so good.”</p><p>Steve moans deep in his chest, eyes screwed shut. That’s when you remember: <em>praise kink</em>.</p><p>You swallow before continuing. “Fill me up so good, don’t you?”</p><p>Steve’s shallow thrusts up into you get deeper and harder, silently encouraging you to continue.</p><p>“I love when you stretch my pussy, love how you feel inside of me – you make me feel so good, baby,” you moan into his ear.</p><p>You move to rub at your clit but Steve beats you to it, using your wetness to coat his thumb before rubbing tight circles onto the most sensitive part of you.</p><p>You cum on his cock with a shout, the both of you groaning into the deep kiss.</p><p>“You feel so fucking good around me,” Steve mumbles, each muscle tense under your hands. “God I’m so close.”</p><p>As your high recedes you pull off of him with a small sigh, crawling down his body before taking his leaking cock in your hands.</p><p>“F-fuck!” he yells. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, babe, I’m gonna <b><em>cum!</em></b>”</p><p>You keep stroking him faster, cupping his balls and taking his shaft in your hot mouth.</p><p>It only takes a few more bobs of your head for him to cum in your mouth, whole body constricting before everything goes completely lax.</p><p>You collapse next to Steve out of breath, the both of you laying on top of the sex-stained blankets.</p><p>Neither of you speak for a long while, comfortable silence settling into the space between you to.</p><p>You’re near falling asleep when Steve mumbles something, turning onto his side to face you.</p><p>You furrow your brow.</p><p>“What was that, babe?”</p><p>You can hear Steve gulp before he asks again, pressing closer to you before slinging an arm over your waist and repeating his question.</p><p>“Can we do that again?” he says, voice small and quiet.</p><p>You smile and pull him closer, his face pressed into your clavicle. “Of course, babe. Of course.”</p>
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